20. Sam

I'm standing at the payphone, dialing my sister's number for what feels like the hundredth time. It's been weeks since we last talked—far too long for comfort. The last update I had was about my nephew being sick in the hospital. Part of me hopes that she's not avoiding me on purpose. Maybe the family simply went on vacation. But somehow, I just know that's not the case.

After endless ringing, someone finally answers. "Hello?"

I try to swallow the lump of emotion in my throat. "Good morning, may I please speak with Mrs. Bennet?"

There's a heavy sigh on the other end. "This is her."

"Hello Mrs. Bennet, my name is Claire and I'm with ATT. I'm just calling to see if you're currently happy with your wireless service?" It's the first time she's answered in weeks, and the words are pouring out like the scripted mess they truly are.

Silence, then shaky breathing. "I can't today, Elaine. I'm sorry." I can tell she's going to hang up, and panic rushes through me.

"No wait! What's going on?" My heart's racing now. She used my real name. An absolute deal breaker. In any other situation, I would hang up. But there's too much unknown. The tightness in her tone, as if she's holding in a sob, tells me I can't hang up.

Then, a flood of tears comes through the phone. I grip it tighter, my hands trembling. "Please Penny. What's wrong?"

"It's Clark, he's getting worse, and they think it's his liver." Her words hit a wipe out on a reef.

"What are they going to do?" My voice barely comes out.

"They're doing some tests. But Elaine, it's so awful, he has to lay under these blue lights all day and I can't even pick him up!" Penny's sobbing, and I switch the phone to my other ear, fighting back my own tears.

"What can I do?" I'm desperate to help. Even being in Costa Rica. If she needs money, or… hell, if I know. But I can't do nothing.

"Come home! I need you, damnit," she yells, her voice breaking.

I shake my head, even though she can't see me. "I can't, you know that."

"You can. I'll tell them everything about Kevin. I swear to you, we'll get the best lawyers, and we'll get you out of this. Please Elaine," she pleads.

But I'm already shaking, tears streaming down my face. "I have to go, Penny. I'll check in tomorrow, okay?" I don't wait for her to reply; I just hang up, slamming the receiver down.

Taking a deep breath, I try to steady myself but my entire body is trembling. Penny has never asked me to come home before. Never. Deep down, I know it's because she's still protecting me. Even after eight years, she's trying to keep me safe. If she's asking me to come home, things are more dire than I want to admit. My chest is rising and falling rapidly, but I can't move. My eyes are glued to the old, ugly blue phone.

"Hey!" Greg's voice comes from across the street. Fear sets in—I can't let him see me like this. I frantically wipe away my tears.

By the time he jogs over, I've managed to force a smile. We've been inseparable since the dinner cruise, spending our days surfing, flirting, and just being together. Yet, we haven't moved past that; there's still been no physical intimacy other than our long, passionate make-out sessions. Strangely, it hasn't bothered me. Getting to know him has become the highlight of my day.

"Morning," I manage, but he's already studying me, concern etched on his face.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, just drama at home. What's up?" I try to deflect.

He's not buying it. "I don't think so, Sam. You're not getting off that easy." His hand brushes my arm, and I feel my resolve melting already. This man has become important to me. As his hazel eyes bore into mine, his frown deepened. "Is it Penny?"

I'm stunned he remembers her name; I've only mentioned her once. But hearing Penny's name from him, it's like a dam breaks inside me. I nod slowly, the tears coming back.

"Her son is still in the hospital, and it doesn't look good."

Greg swears under his breath and runs a hand through his hair. "You have to get home," he tells me.

I throw my hands up in frustration. "I can't!"

He gently grabs my hands, lowering them. "You can! Just get on a plane, Sam." Tears are streaming down my face; my eyes are closed against the overwhelming feeling of helplessness. Flying home isn't an option. The moment I land, I'd be arrested. Somehow, I've managed to stay off the radar so far—careful planning, never using my real name, changing my appearance. But Penny's plea, saying she needs me, is tearing me apart.

"You don't understand. Going home would only make things ten times worse."

Greg wraps me in his arms, squeezing tight. We're both quiet as he comforts me the best way he knows how. Slowly, I melt into him, my forearms resting on his broad chest. I close my eyes and let my body relax, taking deep breaths as he kisses the top of my head. "Then take the day off, let me dote on you."

I shake my head, my face buried in his chest. "I can't. Tilly and Tommy both have surf lessons. I have to work."

"Lock the door. Let me deal with Ron." There's a small hint of mischief in his voice, and I know he's serious. Despite everything else, I smile.

"If you want to be banned from the bar, sure."

Greg's gaze softens as he looks down at me, a silent promise in his eyes. "Then I'll stay at the Shack with you. Okay? Every time you get overwhelmed, you go to the back. Even I can pour a few beers."

His offer catches me off guard, and I must look surprised. "Don't look so shocked. I'm a nice guy," he says. And he really is. For all my time with him, his demeanor has never been anything but nice. If he wasn't, I would have run for the hills long ago.

"Fine." I can see him already celebrating what he's counting as a win, and I hold up a single finger. "But I need to clear my head."

"Surfing?" he asks. I don't answer but start walking toward the surf shack.

He catches up to my side, wrapping an arm around my waist. "Just don't leave me alone with Tilly and Tommy. I can't handle the awkwardness," he says, holding the door open for me.

We're barely settling in behind the bar when Tilly walks in through the back, still wet from her lesson. When her eyes land on me, taking in my sad expression, her face shifts into a terrifying scowl.

"What the hell is going on?" she asks Greg.

"It's nothing. Just a little family drama," I say quickly, hoping Tilly won't pry further. She nods but still doesn't pull her glare from Greg. Instead, she pulls her rash guard off and tosses it in the barrel of fresh water near the changing rooms. I slip out of Greg's embrace and make my way to the back, overhearing Tilly ask where I'm going. "She needs to clear her head," Greg answers.

I catch a small smirk on my lips when I hear Tilly groan before announcing she's going out for lunch. When will they learn I don't easily give up?

Grabbing my tools and bandana, I return to the front and slide under the pinball machine, feeling Greg's gaze on me but choosing to ignore it. With earbuds in, I lose myself in the task at hand, reconnecting wires and replacing a bolt for the plunger device, determined to fix whatever I can control.

Hours melt away in a blur. Everything I'm worried about, Penny, Tilly, and Tommy, trusting Greg, it all falls away as The Fratellis blare through my headphones.

Finally, with the last wire connected, I slide out from under the pinball machine, stretching out to plug it in. The machine bursts to life, its lights flickering on, and the iconic Star Trek theme song fills the shop. I barely notice Greg hovering behind me. When I do, I yell over my shoulder, "Go grab some quarters from the till." I can't help the excitement in my voice. The pinball machine has been broken since I arrived eight years ago.

He dashes off, returning moments later with the change clutched in his hand. I pause, a silent plea whispered through my closed lips, before dropping the coins into the slot. The familiar clink sounds, and I watch as credits appear on the DMD display, the silver ball rolling into place.

"I think I did it," I murmur, more to myself than to Greg. He's right there, leaning over, watching as I launch the ball into play. The sounds of success echo around us, the digital score climbing rapidly with dings and music.

"What was that?" he asks. I can't contain my excitement anymore.

I whirl around, my arms shooting up. "I fixed it!" The words burst from me in a rush of joy. I'm hopping up and down, barely able to believe that I've untangled every issue plaguing this machine.

Greg's watching me, an amused smirk on his face. When my little victory dance winds down, he pulls me close. "You're fucking amazing, you know that?" I tuck some of my hair behind my ears and shyly nod. His smile brings heat to my face, but his cool, calm hands find their place. With eyes darting between mine and my lips, I close the distance. Our lips collide, his kiss stealing my breath away. As his hands move down my figure, I jump up, and he catches me. My legs wrap around his waist as I tilt my head back. Greg's tongue slips into my mouth, and before long, we're both moaning.

Right as I'm about to suggest we ditch the surf shack for a lunchtime ‘snack' up in my apartment, our intense and private moment is interrupted by the chime of the front door.

The customer's awkward glance catches us in a tangled embrace. "Hey, Sam. When you're uh, ready, can I get a beer?" I manage a nod, pressing a quick kiss to Greg's nose before climbing off him and darting behind the bar.

Greg takes a seat beside the newcomer. "Scott," the man introduces himself, reaching out. I watch the handshake from my spot behind the bar. "What were you guys celebrating? I thought I heard cheering."

As I pour a mug and slide it across to Scott, I explain, "Scott runs the yoga place next door." Then, gesturing towards the now humming pinball machine, I add, "I finally got that damn thing to work."

Scott takes a sip. "Oh, nice." Leaning against the counter, I steal a glance at Greg, a wave of accomplishment washing over me. For a moment, everything else fades, and it's just the triumph, the pinball machine, and us.